Unless He's A Matchless Match
by Save Fearow
Summary: What do you get the monster who has (almost) everything? Bonsty Ickis is convinced his Dad needs to find a new wife, now if only he could get Slickis to agree...


Unless He's A Matchless Match

an Aaaah! Real Monsters Fanfic

by Save Fearow

Author's Note: Monsters age at roughly 1/10 the rate of humans. Bonsty Ickis is the equivalent of a toddler. Some toddlers are more precocious than others, THAT'S where trouble starts.

"We need to blend the right amounts together to keep the taste consistent. Cement's composed of limestone and clay which is ground into powder to form the basis of our mix. For every cup of cement we'll add another cup of sand, gravel, and water then stir." instructed Slickis.

"What can I add?" Ickis questioned.

"Not the water, you'd spill that too easily. I don't want you getting sand in your eyes, not sure HOW that'd happen, but I'm envisioning it already, and it doesn't look good. You can add the gravel, son." Slickis decided.

"I can do that!" Ickis announced. He tried to tip the bucket of gravel into the mixing pan, but it was too heavy. "Almost got it." Ickis insisted after several failed attempts.

"Let me help you out." Slickis offered.

"But if I don't help with your cake, then I've done -nothing- nice tonight for your birthday!" Ickis lamented.

"What about the painting you made of me looming? It's terrific." Slickis recalled.

"That was this morning." Ickis explained. "I've done nothing nice NOW."

"We're having a nice conversation, isn't that enough?" wondered Slickis.

"Not even close." Ickis maintained.

"Alright then. Hold your paws out over the pan, perfect! I'll pour the gravel slowly over your paws and that will filter material down into the pan. Good boy. Hold it steady." Slickis cautioned. He carefully poured the gravel into the mix. "Gravel gives the cake texture. When you've got sharp fangs, you 'preciate that added crunch."

"Mine aren't so pointy yet. Can you show me how to extend them?" asked Ickis.

"Fangs only reach their full length durin' a loom. S'pose I could give you another lesson in that tomorrow." Slickis allowed. "Pull your paws back son, and I'll add the sand."

"Okay, Dad." Ickis complied readily. He shook the last remaining pebbles loose. "Can't you teach me looming now? Please?" he begged.

"There's not enough time." Slickis explained as he scooped sand in. "Gotta finish this cake, give you a bath, and put you to bed, then I'm meeting the fellows at the tavern. Horvak says there's a surprise for me."

"Can I go with you?" pleaded Ickis.

"No. A tavern isn't a good environment for you. Kentucky Burble is -not- for bonstys." Slickis maintained.

"So not fair! Grown-ups have fun all'a time without me!" Ickis whined.

"You saw me pitch a no-hitter earlier, wasn't that fun?" Slickis mentioned.

"You're the best at Sewerball! Woulda been a -perfect- game if the catcher hadn't made an error. If I was bigger, -I- could be on your team, an' I'd never ever FOREVER let you down!" Ickis detailed.

"Wouldn't that be something?" Slickis concurred. "Forever's the longest time there is, Ickis. A monster could make a mistake, or something could happen that nobody foresaw." He poured the water into the pan and a bit of the mixture sloshed out the sides. "I'll clean that later. Would you like to help me stir?" Slickis inquired.

"Yes!" Ickis enthused. He grabbed the spade and began stirring.

"Stir quickly while the mixture's driest." Slickis instructed. "It'll get harder to stir as the concrete starts to set."

"I can't move it any more, Dad." Ickis moaned when the spade wouldn't budge.

"I'll take it from here." Slickis declared. Ickis let his father grip the spade. Slickis pried it loose easily. "Almost done! The cake -would- harden on its own, but we'll bake it so it's ready faster. Before it sets, we'll carve a message into it. Wanna help write 'Joyeux Anniversaire'?" Slickis suggested.

"No, I'd wreck it." replied Ickis.

"Writing gets easier with practice. I'll show you how it's done. J looks like a fish hook, you can remember that." Slickis persisted.

"I 'member it being stuck in my paw. That hurt!" Ickis whimpered.

"I'm sorry that happened, son. Writing won't hurt you, it's a useful skill." Slickis declared.

"It hurts my brain." Ickis asserted. He watched his Dad inscribe the cake, and frowned thoughtfully. "Why is 'birthday' the same as 'anniversary' in French?" he wondered.

"Cause they're both celebrations of annual events that happen on specific days." Slickis answered.

"Most monsters don't get -married- on their birthdays!" Ickis protested.

"There are other anniversaries." Slickis explained as he finished carving. "You're too young to hear all about certain events, so don't fret."

"I'm not a bonsty! I'm gonna be 43 in August, tell me then!" Ickis retorted.

"We'll see, son." Slickis responded.

"You always say that when the answer's no!" Ickis argued.

"Maybe this time will be different. We'll see." Slickis maintained.

"I'm big, I can handle it!" Ickis huffed.

"You -have- been helping more around the house. I'm gonna put the cake in the oven, think you can start a bath on your own?" Slickis inquired.

"Sure! I'll jump into the sewage barrel and splash around." Ickis declared.

"You'll do more than that. Grime up your fur with that dirt-based shampoo AND conditioner. No son of mine's gonna smell clean." Slickis opined.

"I know what I'm doing!" Ickis insisted. He stomped out of the kitchen and headed for the barrel (which was kept outside after he'd knocked it over a few times.)

Slickis placed the cake pan inside the oven then waited for Ickis to return. "Un, deux, trois..." he counted.

Ickis slunk back inside. "I didn't -forget- the shampoo, I jus' didn't 'member where you put it." Ickis clarified.

"It's in the linen closet, next to the towels. Don't wanna forget those either." Slickis mentioned.

"I was gonna shake my fur dry." Ickis revealed.

"Better use a towel when one's available. Little bonstys shouldn't walk around with damp fur." Slickis persisted.

"I'm NOT little!" Ickis complained. "Once I loom tomorrow, I'll be too big to boss around!"

"Then I better enjoy this while I can." Slickis asserted. He scooped Ickis up and began carrying him.

"Put me down!" Ickis protested.

"I will, soon as I get you over a barrel." Slickis promised.

"This is the worst experience of my young life." Ickis claimed.

"Worse than the fish hook?" Slickis questioned.

"That only happened cause I was -trying- to be nice to YOU." he wailed.

"You were SUCH a good boy then. I shouldn't tease you for caring about me." Slickis admitted. He shifted Ickis' weight onto one shoulder, and grabbed the bath supplies. "Now we're all set for your bath."

"Are you gonna kick the door open, Dad?" Ickis asked.

"Sure, why not?" Slickis obliged by knocking the back door open with his foot.

"That was great! Why can't I open doors that way?" wondered Ickis.

"You haven't built up those muscles yet." Slickis replied.

"That's cause you won't stop carrying me!" Ickis retorted.

"That's how a father shows he loves his son." Slickis declared. He set the towels, shampoo, and conditioner down next to the barrel.

"Can't you find a less ANNOYING way to do that?!" Ickis demanded.

"Absolutely." Slickis agreed. He ruffled his son's fur playfully.

"I hate my life." Ickis grumbled.

"Stop pouting, son. By the time you take off your glasses and get your fur dirty, the cake will be ready. I'll give you the first slice." Slickis offered.

"No way!" Ickis squealed.

"Yes way!" countered Slickis.

"Wow! You're the best, Dad!" Ickis asserted.

Slickis beamed. "Thank you, son." he acknowledged.

"An' you give the -best- bribes!" Ickis concluded. He removed his glasses and handed them to Slickis for safe keeping.

"Whatever works." Slickis permitted. He lowered Ickis onto the ground. "Careful getting into the bath." he cautioned.

"Not my fault ev'rything's blurry now." Ickis groused. "But I -know- how sewage smells, I can find it EASY."

"Loomers have an excellent sense of smell. All the more reason to keep dirty." Slickis opined.

"Someday you'll be sorry you kept teasing me." Ickis huffed.

"Alright Ickis. I'll be good." Slickis vowed.

"Shnookie an' me won't let you be part of the fam'ly otherwise." Ickis announced as he climbed into the barrel.

Slickis' eyes widened. "Shnookie?" he repeated.

"That's the sponge's name! Did you bring her?" Ickis inquired.

"No. That was jus' a toy I gave you to settle down once. You don't need-" Slickis began.

"Shnookie's MINE. You can't take that away from me! An' if you keep shoving her under the cabinet, I'll start sleeping THERE." Ickis threatened.

"You don't need to sleep anywhere but your bed tonight Ickis. You can keep the sponge with you." Slickis allowed.

"Yes! I get Shnookie tonight!" cheered Ickis.

Slickis winced. "Tell me where you heard that word, son." he requested.

"From you." Ickis replied as he lathered up the shampoo. "I listen to you all'a time, even when you think I'm not. I figured out Shnookie was Mom's nickname, isn't that smart? I bet SHE'D have been proud of me!"

"She would've loved you no matter what." Slickis recognized sadly.

"Yeah!" Ickis agreed. He dunked his head under the dirty water, then surfaced. "I like this shampoo Dad. It's slimy an' that makes me think of -pies- which makes me think of you." Ickis proclaimed.

"Sure." Slickis commented absently.

"The conditioner is my favorite though! I bet girls like boys with grimy fur, dont'cha think?" Ickis chattered. "When we took the big statue to the Monster Metropolitan Museum of Art, there was a squishy girl looking at junk with HER Mom. I only got a glimpse a'fore the groupies swarmed around us but she was tall with zebra stripes. If we go back there, d'ya think I'll see her again?" Ickis wondered.

"I don't know, Ickis." Slickis answered.

"But you know -ev'rything!- That's why you're the Dad an' make all the house rules, even the ones I hate!" Ickis protested.

"There's more to being a Dad than setting limits. I'm not infallible, I do the best I can." Slickis replied.

"I think you're the best anyway." Ickis decided.

"That's m'boy." Slickis stated, his confidence restored. "You've been in there long enough. Time to get out."

"Okay, Dad." Ickis scrambled out of the barrel and shivered.

"Wring out your ears and come over here so I can dry you off." Slickis instructed.

Ickis squeezed the sewer water out of his ears. "Don't fluff my fur up TOO much." Ickis warned before trotting over.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Slickis insisted. He toweled his son off thoroughly, and smoothed down the fur. Slickis then gave the hated glasses back to Ickis and smiled. "Now you're ready for dessert. Let's have some birthday cake, son." Slickis suggested.

That was worth every indignity Ickis had suffered. "Yeah! You're great at baking! Did your Dad teach you?" Ickis questioned.

"No monster EVER -willingly- let General Brickis loose in a kitchen. I think the Army only put him on KP duty once before learning that it was more of a punishment for the battalion! My mother was in charge of food preparation, you should've heard Malvara screech when Brickis burned a hole in her favorite kettle, trying to make kerosene tea. 'De tous les idiots dans le monde, j'ai dû vous épouser! Restez hors de ma cuisine, ou je grifferai vos yeux.'" Slickis recalled.

"Le grand-papa a-t-il compris le français?" Ickis wondered

"Il l'a appris assez rapidement." Slickis answered. "Your mother had -some- trouble with French, although Squelia tried hard to learn it. Granma Malvara gave her a recipe book as a wedding present, but she couldn't -read- it. But I'd memorized most of those dishes by the time I was your age, and could tell her what to do."

"I -hate- reading." Ickis sulked. "I'm glad Mom was bad at it too."

"She was great at reading, provided the book was in English. HER father was scholarly, had a library of classics written in German, Spanish, and English. I wish I'd salvaged more of Granpa Daggoroth's collection considering how much you love Beowulf." Slickis revealed.

"Beowulf is mean, I hate HIM. I only like Grendel an' the other swamp monsters." Ickis asserted.

"Maybe Grendel is the real hero then." Slickis theorized as he opened the door.

"Grendel can't be heroic, he died too soon." Ickis proclaimed.

"Let's not talk about this anymore. Have some cake and put your mind at ease." he professed.

"Okay, Dad. Are you gonna read to me tonight?" inquired Ickis.

"I don't think I'll be back in time. You'll probly be asleep when I return." Slickis maintained.

"Tell me a story tomorrow then." Ickis badgered.

"Only if you behave. Stand back while I get the concrete cake out." Slickis gently commanded. Ickis scooted further away, even though he wanted to see what the cake looked like. Slickis slid the pan out of the oven. "That's perfect." he noted. "Pass me the spade, and I'll carve you a slice."

"Yes Dad!" Ickis chirped. He hurried to bring the spade over to Slickis.

"I'll give you a big piece. You need to put on weight if you're gonna loom. Bon appétit, mon fils." Slickis stated. He chiseled off a section of the cake.

"Merci beaucoup." Ickis responded. He began chewing on the concrete immediately. Slickis devoured the remaining cake.

"Délicieux." Slickis claimed. He patted Ickis on the head. Ickis smiled at him, then went back to munching on cake. He licked the gravel off his claws.

"That was great! Happy birthday, Dad!" Ickis declared.

"It's been excellent so far. Promise me you'll go to bed like a good bonsty." Slickis requested.

"I promise!" Ickis agreed, not fully understanding how seriously Slickis would treat such an oath. He was busy plotting how he'd wait until his Dad was out of earshot, then he would quietly follow Slickis to the tavern. Ickis was SURE that was where all the fun happened!

"Terrific! Do that and you'll mature into a responsible young monster in no time." Slickis envisioned. "Sleep tight, Ickis. I'll come check on you when I return."

"Have a good time, Dad!" Ickis called out.

"I bet it'll be great." Slickis predicted. He waved farewell. Ickis waved back, then tromped upstairs. "G'bye, son." Slickis announced. He closed the door and walked off into the night, content that all was right in his world.

Ferocious Tavern was a favorite hang-out for adult monsters, and Slickis looked forward to drinking a few bottles of Kentucky Burble with his friends. He strode into the bar confidently and was pleased to discover that Horvak, Lerkayner, and Jorch had saved a booth for him.

"Happy birthday, Slick! Great to see ya, been waiting all night! Y'know we can't party without you!" Horvak greeted his former roommate.

"Thanks, Horvak." Slickis' chest swelled with pride.

"I told the bartender you'd buy gooze for everyone." Horvak continued.

"Of course. Drinks are on me!" Slickis allowed.

Lerkayner eyed Slickis critically then nodded. "Terrific. You managed to ditch the bonsty." Lerkayner noted.

"Ickis is a good boy." Slickis stated as he sat down. "Went right to bed, jus' as he promised. He was great all day. We took a morning jog, I scared a couple humans, made a picnic lunch- we found some bullfrogs, so I fried up croakettes- then he watched me CLOBBER the Boston Dreadfuls, a no-hitter even! Then I took him home for supper, a nice trashiflette, and a concrete cake for dessert. Ickis bathed in some sewage, and I sent him to bed, no problem!" Slickis detailed.

"You spoil him." Lerkayner remarked.

"Yeah, I don't make fancy food for bonstys. I tell my Krumm, et your compost and like it. Boy don't give ME no trouble. Take tonight, fer instance. Sent him over to his Ma's house, let her watch Krumm fer awhile." Horvak declared. "Gotta be firm or bonstys will walk ALL over you!"

"Not at all! Ickis is thoughtful, even made me a birthday present. It's a painting of me looming on a moonlit night, I think he was inspired by my greatness." Slickis claimed.

"What, no giant statue?" Lerkayner quipped. "Did he drain the excess mud already, or did you decide to gobble down the rest?"

"Ickis WON'T go overboard with a project again, he understands that now." Slickis insisted.

Jorch frowned. "Dunno what my son understands. Snorch is quiet, too quiet." he admitted.

"I don't think I've ever had THAT problem with Ickis." mused Slickis.

"It's about the -only- problem he doesn't have! Kid's even a noisy sleeper." Lerkayner grumbled.

"Ickis only snores when he's stuffed up. He might have some allergies, a freshly dusted room seems to bother him." Slickis clarified.

"Maybe he can power nap through it!" Lerkayner mocked.

"It -would- be easier if Ickis did that. At first I thought he was resisting deliberately. But it could be that he doesn't have sufficient body mass to enter that deep restorative sleep." Slickis opined.

"Too bad. I always liked poking monsters that don't wake up none." Horvak confessed.

"You shouldn't have done that at the Academy. I -told- you I'd be unaffected by external stimuli durin' a power nap." Slickis argued. "It's a standard loomer response, started in the Ice Age, when our ancestors slept through winter storms."

"It's good fun! I remember the day I shoved a watermelon rind on yer head and wrapped a sheet around you like a toga." Horvak recalled.

"You -claimed- you didn't know WHO did that!" roared Slickis.

"Heck, I didn't think you were fluff-headed enough to believe it!" chortled Horvak.

Jorch pounded his fists on the table and guffawed. Lerkayner nearly fell out of his seat, he was laughing so hard.

"Is this really necessary, guys?" Slickis wondered.

"It will be after I get to the best part! There's Slick, snoozing away for 2 days. He yawns, stretches, tells me how great he feels but that he could use a bite to eat. So I says there's a pie waiting for him in the Gromble's office, and FWOOSH! He's off like a rocket, running down the halls, dressed like a MORON!" Horvak exclaimed.

"Least I got a slime pie out of it, once the Gromble stopped laughing." Slickis muttered.

"I wish I'd gone to your school!" Lerkayner lamented.

"It's -really- not like you to say that Lerk." Slickis remarked. He looked at his friends and was struck by a revelation. "Y'all did NOT wait for me before you started drinking." Slickis realized as he smelled the gooze on their breath.

"Cheers." Jorch murmured before passing out.

A waitress glided towards them. "I've half a dozen bottles of Kentucky Burble, for someone named Melonhead." she announced.

Slickis gave the waitress 30 toenails. "Better make it a dozen." consented Slickis.

Ickis pricked up his ears. Slickis had been gone for 22 minutes (practically forever) so it was safe for him to finally go after Dad. Ickis caught scent of that aroma of slime and success he associated with his Dad and followed the trail west until he stood directly below the corner of Pearl and Broad Street. Ickis gazed in wonderment at Ferocious Tavern.

"Hey bonsty! This ain't no place for brats!" a monster scolded.

"Yeep!" Ickis yelped and ran inside the bar. He took cover in the nearest hiding spot he could find, which turned out to be a spitoon. Ickis whimpered as his claws brushed up against discarded chewing gunk.

Slickis was considerably more relaxed, having swallowed his 10th bottle of Kentucky Burble. "When do I get my surprise?" Slickis questioned.

Lerkayner grinned. "Whenever you're ready Slickis. Time is toenails! But we think she's worth it." he asserted.

"She?" Slickis repeated.

"Name's Moorlune. You're gonna love her." Lerkayner professed. He whistled and a lady monster with spiky fins and a long mermaid tail sauntered into the bar.

"Hey, Big Loomer. Do you wanna get wet?" Moorlune offered.

"Oh my." Slickis observed. He was blushing furiously and suspected that was the least of his problems.

"I heard you grow -gigantic-. I've been LONGING to see if you live up to your reputation, Great Slickis." Moorlune whispered. She blew seductively in his ear.

"N-no. I can't." Slickis stammered.

"That's not how it looks to us! Dang Slick, you really CAN get huge." Horvak envied.

"Shaddup." hissed Slickis. He tried to back away from Moorlune. "Ce n'est pas vous, il est moi. Je vous trouve pour être une femme très attirante, honnête! Mais j'étais marié et je veux rester fidèle à elle. Veuillez arrêter ceci, je vous prient!" Slickis protested.

"Fancy talk, that means you're already getting squishy!" Horvak declared.

"Happy birthday, Mis-ter Champ-i-on..." Moorlune warbled.

Slickis tried again to dissuade her. "I can't DO this!" he maintained.

"Sure you can. From what I heard, you used to nuzzle your girl all the time back at the Academy, didn't care how many times the Gromble punished you for it." Lerkayner pointed out.

"That was different! Squelia BECAME my wife, I -loved- her!" Slickis argued.

"Squelia's gone, Slick. She's -been- gone almost 43 years, she ain't getting any deader!" Horvak remarked.

Slickis' eyes filled with blood. "Do you wanna -join- her? Cause THAT'S where you're headed if you don't shut your mouth, right NOW." Slickis snarled.

"For a guy who loved his dead wife, you sure don't mind throwing another monster at her." commented Horvak.

Slickis bared his fangs. "Tell me why I shouldn't gnaw your arms right down to the bone." he threatened.

"I don't bathe very often." Horvak replied.

"Also, he needs arms for holding mugs of gooze." added Lerkayner.

"You're next!" Slickis snapped. He was about to throttle Horvak when another patron dumped some trashbacco into the spitoon.

"Blugh." Ickis grumbled.

Slickis' eyes widened. "Ickis?!" he exclaimed. Slickis didn't know what Ickis was doing here, but there was NO mistaking that voice.

Ickis sputtered and shook some trashbacco from his fur. "Hi, Dad!" he chirped.

"Ickis, come here. NOW." Slickis ordered.

Ickis bounded out of the spitoon. "Sure, Dad. Are you gonna show me your new squishy lady?" Ickis questioned.

"You brought a bonsty with you? Gonna be extra if he watches." Moorlune determined.

Slickis glared at her. "There's NOTHING for him to see here. Please leave so I may have a -serious- talk with my son." requested Slickis.

"If it's about Shnookie, he'd do better with a visual demonstration." Moorlune opined.

"I like Shnookie!" Ickis declared.

"Don't we all." Lerkayner noted. He winked at Moorlune and smoothed down his antennas.

"For you the price is doubled, toenails up front." Moorlune decided.

"Pushy dame. Wanna go someplace private, work out the details?" Lerkayner suggested. He slid a paw around her waist, and she slapped it aside before letting him escort her from the tavern.

"Horvak, you need to go too." Slickis growled.

"But I took care of that a'fore I got here!" protested Horvak. Slickis scowled at him until he got up and shuffled out the door.

"Ickis." Slickis turned to address his son.

"Yes Dad." Ickis smiled as he answered.

"Bad boy. You -promised- you would go to bed!" Slickis scolded.

Ickis' face fell. "I did. I went to bed, an' then I went an' followed you!" Ickis retorted.

"Ickis, no! You know better than to give me an excuse like that!" Slickis chided.

"What excuse should I give?" Ickis asked.

Slickis cuffed him on the ears lightly. "No excuses. You gave me your WORD Ickis, you were s'posed to honor that! Monsters -never- break their word." he lectured.

Ickis buried his face in his paws. "I didn't know! I'm sorry!" Ickis sobbed.

"Are you sorry you did wrong, or are you sorry you got caught? Think about that while we go home and I give you ANOTHER bath." Slickis instructed.

Ickis sniffled. "You're mad at me." he whispered.

"I'm not -mad-, jus' disappointed in your behavior." Slickis clarified. He scooped Ickis up and grimaced at the stickiness of his son's fur. "I'm taking you home, and you're the ONLY monster I'm taking home so if there are any -other- surprises for me they'd BETTER stay hidden." Slickis announced gruffly. From the corner of the bar, 3 female monsters sighed loudly, while at Slickis' former table Jorch remained passed out in a drunken stupor.

Ickis -knew- his father was mad at him, in spite of what Slickis had claimed at the tavern. Why else would he keep silent all through the walk home and the ensuing bath? Ickis had been afraid to start a conversation, so he waited in vain for Slickis to say something first. But Slickis just dried him off, marched him upstairs, and placed him in bed. The only consolation was that Slickis left Shnookie in the room. Ickis clung to the sponge in despair, and cried himself to sleep.

The following morning Ickis woke late, still pondering how to win back his father's love. The ideas he'd dreamed up during the night ranged from implausible (elect Dad the 'King of The Universe'. Ickis wasn't sure kings WERE elected positions, but everybody loved them and they wore nice hats, so until he found something better than a watermelon, Ickis was keeping -that- option open) to downright unsettling (he'd sacrifice himself into a volcano after performing a Forgiveness Dance. The cleansing fire would strip Ickis of all his negative traits as well as his fur, bones, and vital organs. Without a son to deal with, all of Slickis' anger would melt away. Pleasing Dad was a goal Ickis would work towards even if it meant dipping his OWN face in molten lava.)

Maybe he didn't need a volcano, it'd be enough if he walked out of his father's life. Ickis knew his suitcase could double as both luggage and bed, but he'd never carried it around without his Dad's help before. Ickis would have to choose only the essentials. He debated inwardly as he regarded both the Sewerball bat (lead pipes and tomatos provided endless amusement) and the fishing pole (which could ensnare food). Finally, Ickis chose the Sewerball bat. He might starve but he'd have fun first!

He had to hurry though. Ickis would -never- have a better chance to escape than when his Dad was pre-occupied with a meal. Ickis gave Shnookie a farewell squeeze. "Take care of Dad." he whispered before setting the sponge down. Ickis then tiptoed downstairs.

"Ickis, would you come here a moment?" Slickis requested.

"No!" Ickis yelled. "I know what 'come here' means, that's why I'm going away!"

Slickis walked over to meet his son. "Ickis, please. Y'know I don't -like- punishing you." Slickis stated.

"Then why DO it?!" exclaimed Ickis.

"I had no other choice. You broke a promise, and wandered into an unsafe environment. That's not like going down to the docks, and I wasn't -thrilled- with that EITHER, but at least the docks were closer to home. Anything could've happened to you, and I wouldn't have known you were in trouble!" Slickis explained.

"But I was going where you were, so you woulda protected me." Ickis argued.

"I can't protect you without some advance warning that you'd be there." Slickis insisted.

"You don't need a warning! Play it by ear, that's easy for you." Ickis theorized.

"I've had many opportunities to practice that since you came along." Slickis admitted.

"I'm sorry I bothered you for so long, Dad." Ickis wailed.

"Ickis, you don't -bother- me. You puzzle me sometimes, and you worry me often, but you NEVER bother me. Do you know why?" Slickis queried.

"You're the Great Slickis?" guessed Ickis.

"I'd rather be a 'Great Dad' today. I love you, so I'm not bothered by the crazy things you do." Slickis replied. "C'mon, son. I've whipped us up a brunch of muckleberry custards topped with pustachio, and grasshopper soup. You'll wanna bulk up if I'm taking you looming today, right?"

Ickis' eyes lit up. "You'd do that, Dad?" he questioned.

"Of course. Come with me, Ickis. Bring the Sewerball bat if you want. I thought we'd loom near City Hall park, then I'd pitch a little to you, maybe we'd forage some. How do you like that?" Slickis offered.

"I like it jus' fine!" Ickis answered.

"Glad to hear it." Slickis declared. He ruffled his son's fur as Ickis walked past.

"Da-ad! You don't play fair." Ickis whined.

"Sure I do. That's why I always win! Eat your custard, Ickis. It's good for you." instructed Slickis.

Ickis took a bite. "It tastes real good." he acknowledged.

"Pustachio's an excellent snack if you need energy. Looming burns alot of calories. That's one reason monsters store excess fat in their belly, so they can loom at a moment's notice! That bulk also provides cold weather insulation." Slickis detailed before gobbling up 5 custards.

"That works for winter. What about the rest of the year, do you hafta eat as much then?" Ickis wondered.

"Only if you want to." Slickis replied. He gulped down 2 bowls of soup.

"I wanna do what you wanna do!" Ickis agreed. He swallowed another custard.

"Jus' fine. Ickis, you should chew thoroughly. You've still got bonsty fangs, they need time to develop. Your throat is smaller than mine, so you're more at risk for choking." Slickis lectured.

"I -know- how to eat." Ickis proclaimed.

"I remember having trouble jus' getting you to gnaw on newspapers." he recalled. "I had to soak it overnight and turn it into pulp. Oh, but ALL the parenting books say paper-training your bonsty is so easy!"

"I was little then." Ickis insisted. "Now that I'm big I can take care of myself!"

"We'll see. Finish your soup Ickis, and I'll put the bowls in the sink so we'll remember to dirty them up again before I cook anything else." Slickis stated.

Ickis slurped up several spoonfuls. "It's mostly done. Can you finish the rest?" Ickis suggested.

"Absolutely. THAT'S the easiest part of parenting." Slickis opined. He guzzled the remaining soup, then carried the dishes away. Ickis snatched up the final custard before his Dad could return and claim it.

"Custard's mine!" Ickis announced as he munched away.

"If you like them so much, I'll make them more often." decided Slickis.

"Can I help next time?" Ickis asked.

"If you get a good night's rest and are up early enough, sure." Slickis allowed. "Grab your Sewerball bat. I'll get mine and a bucket of tomatos, then we'll go to the park."

"Yes!" Ickis cheered. He was so excited about playing with his Dad that he'd almost forgotten to worry about how he'd get Slickis to like him again.

Sharlooze scowled. Every ridge on her face stood out in anger. "What do you mean, I don't get the part?!" she hissed.

"Rotundio and Jawlier is a play that hinges on the chemistry between the 2 leads." explained the director. "You and Bludge just didn't click."

"If I found a better monster would you give me another audition?" Sharlooze persisted.

"You'd have to bring him here before the day's over." the director answered.

"I will! As sludge is my witness, I'll never be rejected again!" Sharlooze vowed.

The director fidgeted uncomfortably. "Over-acting is what drags down your performance." he theorized.

Sharlooze ignored him and stalked off. Somewhere in this city was the monster who'd make her a star!

Slickis casually tossed a tomato up-and-down as he walked alongside his son. "Remember how I taught you to swing a Sewerball bat, by breaking the movement down into steps? Looming also combines several small steps for a fluid motion. It'll be difficult until you've built up some muscle memory." Slickis explained.

"I can do it, Dad!" Ickis asserted.

"Put your paw over your ribs, feel the muscle under there?" Slickis questioned. Ickis nodded, so Slickis continued his speech. "Pectoral muscles are used durin' a loom. If there's an outside force exerting pressure on your chest, you won't be able to revert to your default form. Loomers look harmless MOST of the time, it's a smart survival strategy to appear docile and only demonstrate ferocity when you need to pull off a scare or defend yourself."

"Grrr. I'm really fierce!" Ickis asserted.

"Growling CAN help put you in the right mindset. Looming's predatory behavior. When blood drips into your eyes, it signals 2 important changes. One is physical as your body will inflate itself. The other change is psychological, has to do with perceptions and emotions. Y'know how your vision changes when you take your glasses on and off, right?" Slickis detailed.

"Yes." Ickis reluctantly admitted.

"Looming also affects your vision. Instead of trying to decipher the world through a blood-filled haze, you'll rely primarily on scents to navigate. You'll use your hearing for further cues, since some objects are not as aromatic as others. That's why loomers have keen auditory and olfactory senses. It surprises some monsters how good we are at scenting, they -always- comment on the ears, and overlook the nose as it's usually obscured by our fur. That's a protective measure, y'know how much it hurts if you fall and scrape your nose, imagine if you didn't have ANY fur covering it!" Slickis noted.

"I'd rather not imagine horrible fates today." Ickis whimpered.

"I jus' want you to be prepared. Looming's the most impressive skill we have as scarers, but there ARE other methods you might utilize sometimes." offered Slickis.

"I can't do the camoflauge thing!" Ickis pouted.

"No, but you're good at jumping and with practice you could pounce. You can also use your claws to climb objects and position yourself above humans on occasion. I've taught you how to swim, so you can pull off underwater scares if need be. Plus, there are many vocalizations used for scaring, some of which you'll learn!" Slickis explained.

"Shriekers are the BEST monsters at vocal scares, right Dad?" prompted Ickis.

"Absolutely! Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Slickis maintained.

"They shoulda named YOUR team the Shriekers. Although New York Yowlers sounds great, like the human team! Can we go people-watching at Yankee Stadium again?" Ickis wheedled.

"Not tomorrow, got a busy schedule. There's a clanket tournament in the morning. If the weather's good I'll participate in the 400 meter freestyle swim, followed by wave-riding practice. If the water's cold we'll go indoors, roll Gorblats before lunch. Then I'll pitch some tomatos to you, ready myself for the afternoon Sewerball game, then I'll take you home for supper. How's that sound?" Slickis detailed.

"I like ev'rything 'cept going to bed!" Ickis cheered.

"Great. Crouch down Ickis and squeeze your chest muscles. Notice how your flappendix responds by contracting? That organ's unique to loomers, it's near your air sac. Jus' like breathing in and out, the flappendix contracts and expands according to a natural rhythm. Tell me honestly if you sense a big change in your flappendix, cause yours might still not be powerful enough to loom. Most loomers master that skill before they're 110, but it's rare to begin looming this young." Slickis remarked.

"I feel somethin'." Ickis insisted.

"That's a start. Monsters like us have fangs that can extend, useful for chewing through hard substances. Loomers typically extend their fangs reflexively after entering that predatory mindset. Try opening your mouth a little, then clamp shut. Open a bit wider the next time, clamp shut again. Keep increasing that amount, you'll find your body -wants- to close the gap. Once your jaw stretches sufficiently you can extend your fangs. It'll hurt at first, like when your bonsty fangs grew in. Don't overextend them as they can fall out! You'll lose the bonsty fangs automatically as you mature, and stronger fangs will grow in but permanent fangs can't be replaced. Alright, show me what you can do!" Slickis instructed.

"Ish this guh?" Ickis questioned as he practiced the jaw exercises.

"Good effort. Pace yourself, don't go so fast." advised Slickis.

"Ahhh!" Ickis moaned, and clamped a paw over his mouth.

"I'm sorry. I told you it -would- hurt, there's no avoiding that. You did well to complete 5 sets." Slickis offered encouragement.

"You made it look easy." Ickis complained.

"I've jus' had alot of practice." Slickis maintained.

"Will you loom for me, Dad? Please?" Ickis begged.

"Of course. Point me towards a human Ickis, and I'll loom." Slickis promised.

"Okay!" Ickis replied. He scanned the surrounding area. "We'll go to that chapel on Broadway, the humans have gathered there again!" announced Ickis.

"Good choice. We'll creep north along Fulton Street, won't take long to get there. You can hold the Sewerball pipes and tomatos for me while I loom, okay? Keep low to the ground and don't approach the humans. Stay 10 feet away from them, you'll have a decent view at that distance." Slickis insisted.

"So not fair!" Ickis grumbled, but he obeyed anyway.

Slickis led the way, grinning wickedly. Two humans stood near the chapel. The woman wanted to go inside, but the man stopped to remove his hat. Slickis gestured for Ickis to wait and after determining that Ickis was safe, Slickis turned towards the humans.

"Herbert, quit fussing." the woman hissed.

"In a moment, Tammy." Herbert replied. "I need to-"

"RARWRRAAAGH!" Slickis roared. He leaped in front of them and flexed his claws. Blood dripped into his eyes, the fangs extended, and his body swelled until Slickis towered over the humans.

"Jee-zus." Herbert moaned.

"Amen." Tammy added. They both screamed and ran towards their sanctuary.

"Not bad." Slickis declared. He shrank back down and returned to where Ickis stood, still staring at his Dad with an awe-struck expression.

"That. was. amazing!" Ickis judged.

"Thank you, Ickis. You'll be able to do that someday." Slickis asserted.

"No way! I couldn't be -that- scary!" Ickis exclaimed.

"Yes way! Have a little faith, son." Slickis persisted.

"That's what I have, little faith in me." retorted Ickis.

"You'll do it when you're ready. C'mon, we'll go to the park and you'll feel more confident after you hit a few home runs." Slickis predicted.

"Jus' watch me, Dad! I'm real good at batting, I practice all'a time!" Ickis professed.

"I know, I've seen the smushed tomatos in your room. You should wait until we're outside." Slickis remarked.

"I'm not good at waiting." Ickis admitted.

Slickis nudged him playfully. "Maybe we should practice that next." suggested Slickis.

"Dad, no!" Ickis whined.

Sharlooze was tired of prowling around Manhattan looking for the ideal monster to play Rotundio. What did she have to do to get a nice gentle-monster to notice her? She WAS revolting, with those horned ridges along her face, that sharp beak, and the feathery fringe under her arms (she couldn't glide but it LOOKED impressive, and was worth the toenails it cost to graft them on.) She'd spent ages surveying -both- the sewers and the streets above them. Finally she made her way to the outskirts of City Hall Park. This was pushing the limits of how far Sharlooze would go in order to meet her co-star. Most monsters who congregated here were pathetic creatures who slept along the waterfront in tiny hovels. She didn't relish approaching them but sometimes sacrifices were needed.

"Think you can handle a curveball?" some monster hollered. At least he had a decent voice.

"Bring it on, Dad!" a shrill bonsty replied. Sharlooze despised whiny bonstys. Still, it might be worth interacting with them. If the father was a loser she'd go back to the casting agency and beg for another day to recruit someone.

There was a splat as pipe connected with tomato. "Think it was a double, Dad?" the bonsty shrieked.

"You're a good base-runner, you could stretch that into a triple." the father asserted.

"Someone's coming, Dad." noted the bonsty.

"Only another monster approaching, that's all." the father determined.

Sharlooze scowled. Only another monster indeed! She'd give that stupid oaf a piece of her mind as soon as she saw... that he was a famous monster athlete, Sharlooze didn't care about sports but she'd seen those notched ears on the cover of monster magazines and on a book jacket.

"Yoo~hoo, monster boy!" Sharlooze waved.

"Hullo." the father replied.

"Hi! I'm Ickis an' I jus' hit a triple off my Dad who's the best pitcher the Yowlers have." Ickis chirped.

"Isn't that something, pitching for the Yippers?" Sharlooze cooed.

"New York Yowlers. It's a semi-pro league." he corrected. "My name's Slickis, over there's m'boy Ickis."

"I'm Sharlooze, starring actress in Rotundio and Jawlier." Sharlooze bragged.

"A classic. 'Then plainly know my heart's dear love, I fear belongs to the daughter of Cawlier. As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine, and all combined, save what thou must combine by horrid marriage: when and where and how we met, we wooed and make exchange of vow, I'll tell thee as we pass but this I pray, that thou consent to marry us today." Slickis recited.

"Wow." Sharlooze whispered.

"Dad's -very- smart!" Ickis exclaimed.

"I'm sure he's also very busy. I won't keep you, Slickis. I'll let you boys play or perhaps you were going to meet your wife?" Sharlooze simpered.

Slickis' ears drooped. "It's jus' the two of us now. I'm a widower." Slickis explained.

"Sorry I brought it up." Sharlooze feigned embarrassment.

"It's okay, Dad's not mad!" Ickis replied. Everything was clicking in Ickis' mind, Dad's insistence on going out alone, the way that lady monster had acted in the tavern, his Dad's glare as he emphasized going home with -only- Ickis, that speech Dad gave the new lady... of COURSE Slickis had been angry! Ickis had -ruined- his chances to meet a squishy lady! Ickis remembered being frustrated that he couldn't talk to that black-and-white museum girl when the groupies were blocking his path. Slickis had been lucky enough to have a free weekend, and Ickis had spoiled EVERYTHING. Now he was determined to be a proper little bonsty.

"Ickis has a valid point, but-" Slickis began.

"Would you mind conversing longer? Hearing your MAGNIFICENT rendition of Rotundio's lines helps me relax." Sharlooze gushed.

"I would-" Slickis' response was cut off again, this time by his son's piping voice.

"You two should relax together!" Ickis suggested.

"I thought we were having batting practice. There's still 5 more tomatos left, don't you wanna take a swing at them?" Slickis wondered.

"I've done enough, -trust- me! I'll run a few laps, pretend I'm covering the bases!" Ickis detailed.

"Alright. It's important to keep up with the fundamentals, stay in top condition." Slickis allowed.

"Tell her ALL about Sewerball. Start with yesterday's game, you CLOBBERED the Boston Dreadful's entire line-up, skunked 'em good!" Ickis prompted.

"That's true. I don't always pitch the whole game, but Mogribax has a torn rotator cuff so I agreed to take the mound in his place. I s'pose it was a special occasion, a monster winning a big game on his 207th birthday..." Slickis cheerfully started describing every inning.

Sharlooze forced herself to smile during the recap. There was nothing duller than monsters who talked about sports. She glanced at the bonsty a few times, noting that Ickis waved at her whenever he completed a lap. Slickis didn't seem to be interested in her YET, but perhaps she could use the brat to get closer to him, until they reached the casting agency at least.

"And in the fifth inning, Yoggip committed an error by dropping the tomato- happens to all of us, he's still a good catcher- and allowed the runner to reach first. So it wasn't a perfect game, but still gets recorded as a no-hitter, that's jus' fine. Now when the next batter stepped up..." Slickis continued.

"You flagged him out or whatever it is you do." Sharlooze interrupted.

"Struck him out. Pitchers strike out batters, catchers tag 'em out." Ickis chimed in as he ran by again.

"Ickis knows alot about catching. Think that's gonna be his position once he reaches Academy level." Slickis predicted.

"I don't know much. You should talk to Dad more Miz Sharlooze, g'bye!" Ickis yelled over his shoulder.

"Ickis, come back here!" Slickis hollered. He shrugged. "Boys are wild sometimes. I'm trying to teach Ickis to be polite to monsters, now where were we?" Slickis pondered.

"You were about to invite me to dinner where we'd continue our conversation." Sharlooze interjected.

"I don't believe that's what we were discussing." Slickis replied nervously.

Ickis raced back over. "Sure it was. Ev'rybody like conversations. It's the high point of our day!" claimed Ickis.

"Ickis, please. I think you've had too much sun. We should go." Slickis suggested.

"Dad, no. I know I'm a bad son, but I -won't- bother you during supper, I promise! It's a real promise this time Dad! I'll be good, please jus' do this!" Ickis pleaded.

"I don't understand how we went from Sewerball to planning supper with a monster we jus' met... but I'll go along with this only if it's what you want, Ickis." he relented.

"Yes! I want this!" Ickis exclaimed.

"So it's agreed!" Sharlooze declared. "We're close to Screaming Soho. Let's have something -exquisite- on our way to the casting agency."

"Dad's great at casting! He's won lotsa fishing derbies. He can snag tires an' everything outta any river, lake, or stream!" Ickis boasted.

"Different kind of casting, son. Miz Sharlooze, you spoke of being an actress, does that have anything to do with this invitation?" Slickis inquired.

"Really it has more to do with your repulsiveness." she bluffed.

"You flatter me but I'm not the monster you're looking for. It wouldn't work out." Slickis stated.

"Da-ad! You're not giving her a CHANCE. You told me to have faith, an' I have faith that you'll LIKE having supper with her. You like supper anyway, it's mostly eating!" Ickis argued.

"Listen to your son." Sharlooze advised.

"See, she's faithful! Let's go!" Ickis chattered. "C'mon. Let's stash the Sewerball gear under a bush, it'll be safe!"

Slickis watched Ickis hide the sports gear then looked at Sharlooze sternly. "We're jus' having supper. It doesn't GO beyond that." Slickis maintained.

"Of course. The fact that you'd get hired for tons of toenails wouldn't even cross your mind." Sharlooze replied loftily. "Just throwing it out there."

"I never swing when the pitch is outside." Slickis answered. He picked up Ickis and began carrying his son before Sharlooze could puzzle out the Sewerball metaphor.

Ickis didn't even protest about being carried to the restaurant. He waited until Slickis set him down outside the door before he spoke up again.

"Don't be nervous Dad. You'll do great!" Ickis confided.

"Ickis, I think you're interpreting this -completely- the wrong way." Slickis cautioned.

"Waiter, over here! We need a table for 3." Sharlooze insisted.

Ickis patted his Dad's paw. "Toldja it'd be great! She's perfectly hideous!" Ickis declared.

"She's perfectly something." muttered Slickis.

Sharlooze grabbed his other paw. "This way, darling Slickis!" she cooed.

"That's not an appropriate term for you to be using." Slickis protested.

"So modest, that's why you'll be the Rotundio to my Jawlier!" Sharlooze opined.

"I'd rather be Melonhead. That was honestly less shameful." Slickis determined.

"Would you like a gooze menu?" the waiter asked.

"Dad drinks Kentucky Burble! I seen him!" Ickis attested.

"Lead me not into temptation." Slickis prayed.

"I'll have a mudgarita." Sharlooze ordered.

"Can I have that?" Ickis questioned.

"No. You're having a phlegmonade." Slickis replied. "Sit in the bonsty seat and behave."

From his elevated perch, Ickis glared at Slickis. "I'm gonna be 43. That's big, it's a prime number." Ickis qualified.

"Ickis, settle down. We'll get through this somehow." Slickis professed.

"I'll bring the drinks around shortly. Please take the time to look over our specialties." the waiter suggested.

Slickis sat down and unfolded his menu. Sharlooze took the seat next to him and scooted over until their elbows were practically touching.

"Isn't this cozy?" she simpered.

"It isn't." answered Slickis. He glanced at the menu. "At least the food looks decent."

"Yeah! We don't go to restaurants much cause Dad's a great cook, but we go to lice cream parlors for treats. Maybe next time we'll go to our house." Ickis ventured.

"Not next time. Not at all." Slickis hurried to quash that idea.

"We can't do it THIS time, we're already eating here!" Ickis countered.

"Why don't you focus on supper, think of what you wanna eat and I'll order it for you." Slickis offered.

"Okay, Dad." Ickis agreed. He kept glancing back at the adult monsters and smiling.

"I've heard slimy foods can be considered aphrodisiacs." Sharlooze commented.

"Sounds a little hard to digest." Slickis responded.

"Dad has sharp fangs. He'd eat anything, no problem!" Ickis asserted, eager to describe what he considered his Dad's finest qualities.

"I wouldn't go that far." Slickis claimed.

"There's the waiter with your gooze! Tell him what you want!" Ickis advised.

"You can't always get what you want." observed Slickis.

"But if you try sometimes, you jus' might find you get what you need!" Ickis proclaimed. Slickis shook his head.

"Kentucky Burble, mudgarita, phlegmonade for the bonsty. What will the gentle-monster be having?" the waiter inquired.

"Heartburn, mostly." Slickis admitted. He sighed. "Please bring me a louseagna, deep-fried fire ants, locust loaf, slob salad with Roach dressing, metalstroni soup, and yucchini succotrash."

"I see where the heartburn comes in." the waiter murmured.

"I don't judge YOU." Slickis snapped.

"I'll have the sloppy slugs." Sharlooze decided.

"I'll have what she's having!" Ickis ordered.

"Ickis, you've never -had- that before! Don't you want something you're used to?" Slickis questioned.

"You told me I should try new things." Ickis persevered.

"That was so you'd try a different fur conditioner, cause I didn't have the grimy kind you like, and we had to use the greasy product instead." Slickis recalled.

"I -hated- that conditioner!" Ickis remembered. Before Slickis could argue any further, Ickis held up a paw. "This is diff'rent Dad." Ickis maintained.

"Fine. Do whatever you want." Slickis consented.

"The slugs'll be ready soon. YOUR meal will take longer to prepare. I'm obliged to mention that we provide wood chips with all our courses." the waiter stated.

"I'd like the kind that's varnished." Slickis opined.

"That's just adding extra calories!" the waiter protested.

"I don't tell you how to do your job EITHER. I can loom it and lose it at anytime." Slickis groused.

"I propose a toast." Sharlooze announced.

"Like when Rotundio proposed to Jawlier!" Ickis envisioned.

"Jus' call me Melonhead." Slickis asserted.

"To my career!" Sharlooze proclaimed.

"To my chagrin!" Slickis declared.

"To my Dad!" Ickis contributed.

"Such comedic timing! You have star potential, Slickis." Sharlooze predicted.

"I have the potential to do many things, but I don't act on every impulse." Slickis replied.

"I've been called impulsive! Even Dad says that sometimes!" Ickis revealed.

"You really -have- been listening at all hours." Slickis noted.

"What's keeping our waiter?" Sharlooze demanded.

"I see him now. He's only got 3 bowls of chips, that's disappointing." Slickis commented.

"The wood chips and slugs are ready. I've also brought the metalstroni soup and the slob salad. I'll bring the rest out momentarily." the waiter claimed.

"Thank you." Slickis acknowledged.

"Eat the mahogany chips first Dad." Ickis suggested.

"Sounds good. Ickis, go eat your slugs." Slickis directed.

"Yes Dad." Ickis obediently took a bite and frowned. "Mmph?"

Sharlooze nibbled a forkful off her plate. "They're scrumptious. Of course they might not be the best dish available." she moved to grab Slickis' paw but Slickis was already jumping out of his seat.

"Ickis? You alright, son?" Slickis questioned.

Ickis wanted to cry but no sound came out. His throat burned and he felt an overwhelming desire to scratch everywhere on his fur.

"He's being fussy. Forget about him." Sharlooze insisted.

Slickis bared his fangs. "Don't you -ever- say that about m'boy." Slickis hissed. He thumped Ickis on the back, hoping his son might spit out the slug and recover.

"Are you one of THOSE parents who worries over every little hiccup from their bonstys?" Sharlooze griped.

"So what if I am? Ickis is in trouble, I think it's a reaction to the food. I'm taking him to the nearest hospital." Slickis decided. He lifted Ickis up effortlessly, and held the bonsty in his arms.

"But we haven't auditioned yet!" Sharlooze whined.

"Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn." Slickis retorted.

Ickis never heard Sharlooze's anguished cry or saw her throw the mudgarita at Slickis. But Ickis did register that Slickis was petting him gently right before he closed his eyes.

St. Gruesome's Hospital was half a mile away, underneath Broadway and Ann Street. Most monsters could jog there in 5 minutes. Slickis managed it in 2 minutes, 19 seconds. He kicked the door open to the emergency room entrance.

"Please help my bonsty. We jus' came from the restaurant, I think it's anaphylaxis, he's unresponsive! Do what you can, he's my son, I'll pay ANY price!" Slickis begged.

A nurse rushed forward. "Poor dear. We'll take him now." she stated calmly. Slickis still clutched Ickis tightly. "Sir? You need to let go." she reminded him.

Slickis relaxed his grip. He watched anxiously as the nurse carried Ickis away. "I'll get him back, right?" Slickis fretted.

"Sir? You need to fill out these forms." a receptionist instructed.

"Paperwork. Got it." Slickis agreed to follow any procedure. At this point, it was all he could do for Ickis. The papers covered every aspect of Ickis' young life. Species: Loomer. D/O/B: August 10th, 1884. Age: 42. (Slickis almost wrote 43 because that was how Ickis would've wanted it recorded.) Fur Color: Red. Eye Color: Yellow. At least those questions didn't make him feel like a failure. The section marked 'previous medical history' seemed to denounce Slickis' every decision about raising bonstys. He tried telling himself these ailments were common, -plenty- of monsters suffered from strep throat, bronchitis, pneumonia, influenza, whooping cough, etc. Has he had a fever within the past 2 weeks? Y/N? Slickis counted backward mentally, then decided he'd round up. It could be a secret between a father and son, Ickis -liked- secrets. Slickis sighed and circled the Y anyway, cursing himself for being so honest.

"This isn't my fault." Slickis insisted as he gave the forms back to the receptionist. He wished he could dissuade his own private misgivings.

The receptionist flipped through the pages. "There are alot of Y's circled here." she noted.

"Jus' tell me if there's any change in Ickis' condition." Slickis requested.

The receptionist smiled politely. "We'll contact you again concerning Ickis." she stated.

Why would they have concerns about Ickis? He'd -brought- his son here, he'd finished the paperwork, did they want a signed confession proclaiming Slickis the world's worst father? Slickis glanced around nervously. How closely affiliated WAS this hospital with Bonsty Protective Services? At least Slickis could say they'd lived in their current address for the past 40 years, -almost- all of Ickis' life. Squatting underneath the Brooklyn Bridge wasn't that terrible, Slickis was sure other monsters had lost homes after the quake of '84, maybe some of them also had newly-hatched bonstys! And maybe Slickis could buy that bridge if he traded in all those maybes for toenails. Slickis hung his head in disgrace.

"Sir? They've informed me that Ickis has been stabilized, he's no longer in critical condition." the receptionist detailed.

Slickis perked up. "He's okay? Can I see him?" Slickis inquired.

"Of course. Nurse Bartal will direct you to his room." she replied.

"Right this way, sir." Nurse Bartal instructed.

Slickis followed her. "I never thought this would happen! I've heard slugs are a common food allergy in bonstys, but no one on -either- side of the family had a history of that! I couldn't -possibly- have known!" Slickis reasoned.

"Nobody blames you sir." the nurse replied.

"Guess I'm nobody then." Slickis observed.

Nurse Bartal opened the door. "Ickis? You have a visitor." she announced.

"Hullo, son. Hope you're feeling better." Slickis professed.

Ickis seemed on the verge of tears. "What happened?" Ickis rasped.

"I'm sorry, Ickis. I didn't know you were allergic to slugs, it's okay! You NEVER hafta eat them again, the doctors will prescribe you epinephrine, you'll take it whenever you need to! Those blotches are already fading, your throat will stop being sore soon, everythin's gonna be jus' fine!" Slickis babbled.

"I don't care about that!" Ickis shouted hoarsely. "Where's the lady, why isn't she here?!"

It took a moment for Slickis to realize who Ickis was talking about. "Oh, her. Don't worry, she's gone for good." Slickis answered.

"You LET her go! How -could- you?!" Ickis sobbed.

Ickis' complaint really shook Slickis. He could see himself standing there, instructing his wife to carry the bonsty egg to safety. Why had he been so stupid? How could he think Squelia would be safe without him? It'd made sense then to help the neighbors first, but he couldn't do everything! Slickis' face crumpled. "I thought I'd be back. That's what I told her! I'll be back in no time... it should've been good enough, I thought it would be." Slickis wailed. He buried his face in his paws and wept.

"Sir!" Nurse Bartal exclaimed. Seldom had she seen a grown monster look so distraught.

Ickis gasped, his own sorrow brushed aside by concern for his father. "Dah! Please, don't cry! I'll get her back, if not her then another girl! I know it was MY fault!" Ickis insisted.

"Ickis, no! If anyone caused this, it was me for bossing your mother around. I was concerned but... I should have..." Slickis searched for an explanation but couldn't find one.

"Mom? I know Mom died, you told me that was an accident, 'member? I -tried- to get you a new squishy lady, I'll pick a better one, don't worry!" Ickis offered.

That jolted some sense back into Slickis. "Ickis, no. That's NOT necessary." Slickis protested.

"There's one!" Ickis exclaimed. He pointed at the nurse gleefully. "She -must- like bonstys, or she wouldn't work here! Find out her name, Dad!"

"I already know her name. That's Nurse Bartal." Slickis replied.

"Sister Bartal." she corrected. "We don't always specify that title, but in this case it's needed."

"Mom was a sister! She an' her brother died on the same day, that's why they called the quake a disaster, cause monsters got hurt or killed." Ickis relayed.

"Sometimes sisters are monsters who have a sibling. But it can ALSO describe a monster who promised not to be -anybody's- squishy ever." Slickis explained.

Ickis was crying again. "But if it's a promise, she has to keep it!" Ickis whimpered.

"I'm sorry son." Slickis apologized once more.

"So am I. Vows aren't always easy to maintain." Nurse Bartal confessed.

Slickis leaned over and patted Ickis on the head. "Ickis, wanna know a promise -I- made?" he asked.

Ickis sniffled. He was glad that his glasses were stained with tears now because he didn't feel like looking at anyone in the room. "I guess." Ickis mumbled.

"I promised your mother I'd love her forever, and I intend to honor that." Slickis revealed. He ruffled his son's fur. "And I made a similar promise regarding you. Gave you my word." Slickis added.

Ickis grinned. "Monsters -never- break their word, right Dad?" he realized.

"That's right." Slickis concurred.

"Ickis seems to be fine now. You both seem alot better off." Nurse Bartal observed. "I'll tell the receptionist to give you a discharge form so he can go home."

"'Preciate it." Slickis professed. He removed Ickis' glasses, and rubbed them clean on the edge of his son's hospital johnny. "There you go! C'mon Ickis. I'll tell you a story as soon as we get back to the house." Slickis offered.

Ickis hesitated. "One with a stepmother in it?" asked Ickis.

Slickis sighed. "I'd rather there weren't any." Slickis admitted.

Ickis' ears drooped. "I was afraid you'd say that." he remarked.

"You'll like it anyway. There's a father and a son and they stick by each other, no matter what. True story." Slickis insisted.

"I guess I'd like that, so long as it's true." Ickis allowed.

"Up you go, then!" Slickis announced. He lifted his son out of bed and wrapped his paws around Ickis protectively.

Ickis sniffed his father's fur curiously. "Dad? Why do you smell like mud?" Ickis wondered.

"I don't know. Maybe I deserved it?" Slickis ventured.

"I like it. Goes well with the undercurrents of responsibility and trustworthiness." Ickis declared.

Slickis smiled. "It does at that." he agreed.

~~~The End.

Author's Note: Some aspects of monster biology were influenced by the show. Joined At The Hip reveals that Ickis is allergic to sloppy slugs. I'm sure that discovery caused some intense moments for poor Slickis.


End file.
